Get Some Sleep
by StoryCurrentlyUntitled
Summary: Mary hasn't been sleeping much lately and she and Marshall have a witness to relocate. She's cranky, doesn't want to believe she's tired and won't let Marshall drive. Only slight M&M, R&R please no flames. Rated T for Mary. 'nuff said.


**So, here it is. My very first In Plain Sight fanfiction. Please let me know how it is. I know they might be OOC a little, but I tried my best. Tell me what you think or if you liked it. No flames, but constructive criticism is okay. I own niether Mary or Marshall, sadly, because they are character of the show In Plain Sight on USAnetwork. I don't own McD's either. But they did need to eat somewhere. Missy is mine however, a character in one of my own stories, though in this story I made her personalitly very different.**

"Mare, look you need rest…"

Rolling my eyes, I slap my hands down on the glass top table in our meeting room, and whip my head around to look at my annoying-ass partner. Sometimes- no, make that a lot of times- I'd just love to beat him up. "Jesus Marshall," My trademark. I think sometimes that he believes that's really his name.

"Jesus Marshall" is his name in this office, for all intensive purposes. I could call him any name I wanted to and he'd answer. He used to at one point. I could walk into a room, say "Jesus Marshall" and he'll stop whatever he's doing and look at me, awaiting my news.

But right now, with the way he's acting, I don't really care about any of that. I don't care if I need rest either. I've got a job to do. I have to get my witness to her new location today. It doesn't matter that I need to sleep. Either mom or Brandi would be in crisis over something and wake me up. That's just how my life is. Besides, I'm not tired anyway. I don't need to sleep when I'm not tired. Right now, I'm just very annoyed that Marshall won't stop telling me that I need to sleep. No matter, when, how or what-and my brain is so scrambled right now that I'm sure that was the wrong order- but no matter what, there's always some drama in my life that requires my attention.

"Will you shut your hole? Let's get going." I grab what's-her-name by her arm, dragging her out of the room and toward the elevators with Marshall following. He doesn't look disappointed or anything and yet I know that he is. He is always worried for one dumb reason or another that, even if I had the time to sit around and try to figure out why, I wouldn't want to. But I don't have the time. Hell, most of the time the reasons why I do most of the things I do just evade me completely. I just do. It all works out in the end. Most of the time.

I notice Marshall looking over at me as I drive the SUV. We have a twelve-hour drive ahead of us that I am personally _not_ looking forward to. When I woke up this morning the first thing I thought to myself wasn't: _I'd like to drive twelve hours two ways on possibly the coldest day of the year when there is no heat working in the damn car- piece of crap. Not to mention while transporting someone comparable to Horst as far as being annoying goes._

Finally having had enough I turn to Marshall, rolling my head dramatically. "Okay, just say something all ready. What the hell do you want?"

He holds his hands up, making a please-don't-bite-my-head-off face at me. "I'm sorry about the heat. It hasn't been working since the other day when I..."

I squint, pursing my lips and shaking my head. The one who stops short is him. I guess it's because he saw the face I am making at him and he has realized that I don't care.

When Marshall opens his mouth to speak, the twenty-something witness in the back seat suddenly speaks up. "I'm cold!"

Marshall turns to look at her briefly and I take a thoughtless glance in the rear view mirror, more looking for traffic behind us, rather than out of concern for her. So what if she's cold? We're _all_ cold. There's worse crap to deal with in life other than being a little chilly. "Don't you guys have any heat in this car? Marshals can afford those kinds of things right? Or at least pay to fix it-"

I jerk the car off to the side of the road and screech the car off into the gravel, Marshall having been about to say something to her as well. If he had been about to warn her that I've got a very short fuse, he's too late now. I put it in park and leave my hand on the gear shift for a moment before turning around swiftly and practically snarling at the girl. She deserves it for being such a whiny bitch.

"Listen Martha,"

She holds up a finger, having leaned back in her seat a bit now. "Um, it's Missy."

I close my eyes in irritation, trying to keep from killing my witness myself. "Look, whatever-your-name-is, let's get one thing straight right off the bat here, professionally, you are my responsibility, personally, I don't give a damn if you're cold or not. Unless you want to die I suggest you shut up in the next ten seconds because if you don't I'll either kill you myself or I'll let your friends take care of it for me. We clear?"

Her eyes full of shock and a little fear the girl nods at me, finally loosening her grip on the seat. "Crystal."

Marshall glances from the girl to me and then back again.

"Besides, this isn't either of our cars. My car's an even bigger piece of crap than this."

She nods at me and Marshall shrugs in a manner suggesting that he agrees. "It's true."

I nod at her once and then turn to Marshall, annoyed that he is looking at me again. "I swear to god Marshall, find something new to watch or you won't be able to see." I'm apparently in a worse mood today than I thought. I wonder why.

A little later we stop at a McDonald's to get something to eat, upon Her Majesty's humble request, which had consisted of Marshall and I listening to twenty minutes of "I'm so hungry" no matter how many times I has insisted she shut her abnormally huge mouth.

Marshall and I take a seat at the closest table to the front where you order with two sweet teas and some extra sugar. While I open a straw, Marshall glances down at the table and then looks up at me, serious. He's just so protective of me. Any other girl would find it sweet for some guy to want to do this sort of thing but I take it as a signal that they think you can't handle yourself, that, in their eyes, you're a weakling. I'm not, and I know he knows that, but I just want to be damn sure. I don't need anyone, especially Marshall, my best friend and partner, to be thinking I'm not as tough as any of the other Marshals in that office.

"It's because you're not getting enough sleep."

I freeze, more agitated than ever. Now he's going to act like a father scolding a little kid for staying up past curfew? It's nice to know that someone does care, but he needs to leave it alone. "So? I never sleep. It's not news Marshall."

"Not true," He shakes his head. "You just don't sleep on a schedule like most people. You usually get enough sleep, but lately, you haven't been."

I turn my hand so that my palm faces up, suggesting that it's trivial that he bring this up. "And?"

He shrugs. "_And _it's a problem to not have enough sleep. Scientists recommend that a fully grown adult woman should be getting around seven hours of sleep a night, all though I'm sure that it does vary when you take in to consideration one's specific age and body type..."

When his eyes meet with mine and I'm glaring at him, not in any particular way, he quickly backpedals. "The point is-" C

utting him off, I about crush my iced tea in my hand. "The point_ is_ that this conversation _is_ pointless. I _never _get enough sleep. Nothing is different. End of conversation." He sighs just as the twenty-something witness slides into the seat beside me.

"Boy! I'm getting three or four hot chocolates for the road! I don't know about you but the thought of getting back in that freezing car is the worst thought of the whole night,"

Marshall's eyebrows go up.

I just chuckle and take a drink again before speaking. "If you'd rather walk all the way to-"

I turn to Marshall and give him a help-me-out-here-look and he lowers his cup a bit.

"It's in Utah. A little town near the border."

"Yeah," Whirling back to the girl, I finish. "What he said. If you want to walk all the way to Utah then be my guest. We'll go home and have a good night's sleep for a change."

Marshall and I exchange a look. He knows that I am being a smart ass. "She doesn't sleep _Missy_. She never sleeps." Making fun of my not remembering her name. Like it matters. Hell, it took a month of him being in the office before I called him by name, and about a half a year before I got it right. He knows that's just how I am.

"I sleep."

He tilts his head, his lips pursed. "I thought you just said you didn't."

I make a face. "Well, I sleep once in a while." Smirking, he tosses his empty cup into the trash receptacle behind him.

After the Queen of Sheba finishes her meal, we all head back out to the car, Marshall trying to beat me to the driver's side door. I grasp the door handle first however, and look back at him, the winner's smile in place on my face. He grimaces at me while I give him a little shrug.

"I'm driving," I tell them, just to make sure they all know it. I can totally handle the next six hours of driving. I don't need to slow down or cut back. It's six hours. We'll get back when we get back and I'll freaking sleep then. I watch, amused while he walks over to the passenger side door, defeated.

"Mare, you're going to have to sleep and let me drive at some point."

I hear my dry laugh over his annoying sleep speech. "Not if I don't want to."

He sighs. "Mare..." His tone is like a warning but I'm having no bull.

"Don't 'Mare' me like I'm a child that needs instructions. If you're so concerned about sleep then why don't you go to sleep? Then we'll both be happy." Another sigh and again, I grin. He's wearing down and soon he will stop trying. He'll eventually figure out that it's better if he just lets me have my own way.

It only takes an hour before I feel my eyelids begin to drop and Marshall has to tell me several times to stay in my own lane and avoid the oncoming traffic. "Look, let me take the wheel now. You've had enough. We all have."

I glance in the back seat where what's-her-face is sleeping, finally finding a pass time that doesn't annoy me into homicidal thoughts. "She seems to be just fine with my driving."

Marshall glances at her. "She would probably not even notice if a bus were about to hit her. Mare, no one is _fine _with your driving. It's like we're running from the police or something, now let me take the wheel."

I shake my head. I don't want to quit before getting there. I don't even know why I'm so insistent on making the entire drive like I am, but I just am and he's going to have to accept that. That's how it's going to be. He places a hand over mine on the wheel and jerks us back onto our side of the road just in time to avoid a head-on collision with an eighteen-wheeler in the opposite lane.

"You're going to get us all killed. Let me drive the damn car."

It's the first time I've heard him sound so serious, no sarcasm in his voice. He means it and he's probably just too tired to try to avoid an argument with me. His eyes are so full of concern and another emotion that's so much deeper I won't get into it. I don't want to go down that road, because I know it's there, and he knows that I know that it's there but not one of us had said anything about it. I'd much like to keep it that way. Friendship is enough for me and, if Marshall is the guy I know he is, it's enough for him, for now. I can't risk another dysfunctional relationship at this point. All of the relationships I have now except for this one have major drawbacks. I don't want that to happen to my partner and I. I need one stable, dependable person in my life.

I look at him for a second longer and then pull the car off to the side of the road. I'm not exactly sure what he's done to make me agree with him, but I'll be sure to remind him at some point that my changing seats wouldn't have happened if I didn't want it to. I hop out, still not understanding why he's making me do this at all. I yawn, but I'm not tired...not tired at all. Into the passenger's side I go. Reaching over me from his seat he hits the little switch that allows the chair to fall into a reclined position.

I yawn again. "I'm not tired Marshall."

A laugh, his and it sounds like he doesn't believe me. "Clearly."

Rolling my eyes, I roll over to face the door and put my head on my hand. It's surprisingly comfortable for the front seat of the car. Funny, was it always this comfortable? "I think I'll close my eyes for just a bit," I tell him, my tone all ready soft as if I'm about to go into hibernation.

"You do that." I grin, knowing that when I wake he'll be smug as hell because he'll have been right. But, right now I'll just sleep.

When I wake I see the beginnings of light coming in through the car windows. We're still moving. I turn over and look up at Marshall, who is yawning. How long has he been up? How long have I been asleep? I look in the back just to make sure that our witness is still there. Annoying as she is, she is my witness and I have a responsibility to get her to her new location. It would blow if I slept through that.

I sit bolt upright and look over at Marshall now. "How long did you let me sleep for?" I demand.

He points down at the digital clock in the car. "You fell asleep around three A.M. It's about seven right now, so, about four hours, if my math's still as good as it once was." He looks over at me and grins.

"God, Marshall, you let me fall asleep?"

He nods. "Yup."

"And you've been up all this time?"

He nods. "I have."

I just shake my head at this. What a freaking moron. He's been up for all these hours driving and all he preached to me was how I should sleep, though he did not. I punch his shoulder, he looks at me and hits me in return. "Doofus, after all that preaching to me about sleep, you stayed up all night long? Hypocrite."

He grins and I all ready know what's going to come next. "That term actually developed in the late..."

"No one cares. You wanted to drive the car, so just drive the damn car and get us somewhere we can eat after getting rid of Her Highness in the back seat." Somehow, I'm not any less grouchy now than I was a few hours ago.

He turns slightly, giving me a drive and stare. How very Fast and Furious of him. I grin back for a minute and then face the windshield again. I guess I did need sleep after all. Of course, I'll never tell him that.

On the way back, as I sip my coffee and ravenously tear away at a donut, I glance over at him. He's asleep in his seat, his one hand wrapped around his coffee in the drink holder and the other over the glazed donut in his hand. I smirk. He's going to wake up soon, reach up to wipe his eyes and get a very sticky surprise. But, until then I can just let him sleep and admire him. It's very easy to remember why I put up with his annoying nature and all of his endless fun facts from god knows where in that endless encyclopedia he calls a brain when I look at him in moments like this. I lick some glaze from the donut off my finger and then move the loose hair out of his face. _Get some sleep Marshall._


End file.
